


the last day of christmas

by minimewt



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-13 03:08:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9104041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minimewt/pseuds/minimewt
Summary: Sometimes it feels like he and Jeonghan are boyfriends. Reality is, they're not.It's always the worst during Christmas.





	1. only fools fall for you

**Author's Note:**

> my thirst for jeongcheol will never quit  
> also Fluff and Angst is my favourite tag i live for that shit
> 
> this is what a purely self-indulgent fic looks like
> 
> also i change the publication date every time something new is added to this fic! so don't be alarmed when you see it change

Seungcheol wonders when it became like this, when one single sentence from Jeonghan gained the ability to make him do things.

 

Things like cancelling his train ticket to Daegu. Like calling home and telling his mom that he might not be coming home this Christmas because he’s going to be quite busy (read: entertaining Yoon Jeonghan).

 

But then, he figures he’s been like this since the first time he met Jeonghan, when the latter’s hair was still dyed bleach blonde, when he caught Seungcheol’s attention amongst the crowd of students at university.

 

Maybe even then he knew he wouldn’t be able to see the rest of his life without the other male by his side.

 

Maybe even then he’d been like he is now: hopelessly pining, always dreaming of him and Jeonghan being something more. These dreams seemed to come whenever, especially in situations with white blankets, wrinkled bed sheets, a warm head on his arm, gentle snores as Jeonghan slept. And the loud sounds of his own thoughts filling the room.

 

Maybe it’s always been like this.

 

 _It’s still like this_ , Seungcheol thinks. He turns off his phone with a sigh – he’d apologise to his mother for his absence at Christmas dinner later. The blankets chafe against his morning wood but Seungcheol settles for shifting slightly so that Jeonghan’s head wouldn’t be lying on his all-too-noticeable bulge and would rest somewhere on his thigh instead.

 

He breathes a sigh into the morning air. Every time he wakes up with Jeonghan it feels like this, something out of a dream, something that is real but unreal because him and Jeonghan – they just aren’t like that.

 

(No matter how much he hopes, they probably never will be.)

 

Seungcheol rubs his eyes. _Snap out of it, Choi Seungcheol._

 

“Jeonghan-ah.” He calls instead, voice raspy with sleep. “Wake up.”

 

“Mm…” Jeonghan makes a throaty sound, rolling left so that his face is buried in Seungcheol’s chest. This entire scene is so domestic it makes Seungcheol’s heart ache.

 

“Yah, Hannie,” Seungcheol resorts to the nicknames, because they always work on Jeonghan (they always work, especially paired with a gentle nip on the ear and a rasp in Seungcheol's voice), “wake up, angel.” He hears a groan, and the blankets shuffle. The warmth disappears from his chest, and Seungcheol watches in amusement as Jeonghan slowly rolls off the bed. He’d been shocked the first time but then the blankets heaped around the bed had made a lot more sense. Now he’s used to it, the way Jeonghan falls (somehow gracefully) off the bed and with a slight “oomph” into the pile of blankets. Seungcheol scoffs a bit. He can't believe he likes this complete child.

 

“Morning.” Seungcheol hears the other male mumble. He chuckles, sitting up so that the blankets pool around his bare waist.

 

“Get some clothes on, it’s cold.” Jeonghan shoots him a pointed look, followed by a suggestive one – they’re both as naked as the day they were born and Seungcheol's morning wood stands tall and proud against the cold morning breeze with only a thin layer of blanket as a shield.. Seungcheol ignores both looks. “I’ll go make you breakfast.” Jeonghan forms an ‘okay’ sign with his fingers, picking up a pair of boxers and a shirt from the floor and traipsing towards the bathroom. Seungcheol frowns. That shirt was definitely too big for Jeonghan, which meant it definitely was Seungcheol's.

 

“Stop stealing my clothes!” He yells. He hears a muffled snort; shakes his head even though the edge of his lips can’t help but curl up into a tiny, fond smile. “Thief.”

 

Seungcheol scans the room before realizing that the only article of clothing that remains, slung over a chair, is his sweatpants. If he remembers correctly, yesterday Jeonghan had flopped onto his bed very literally straight after he took a shower (which really meant he had flopped onto Seungcheol’s bed naked and wet, soaking through the blankets). So if his boxers aren’t in the room anymore, it would mean the other male had taken them too. Which means Jeonghan’s currently putting on his boxers without a care in the world. Even though they have sex on the regular, just the thought of Jeonghan wearing _his_ boxers makes him flush a bit.

 

Seungcheol pulls on his sweatpants and heads to the kitchen.

 

Normally, Jeonghan likes to have eggs and bacon for breakfast. But if the night before had been a rough night (read: he and Seungcheol had had sex), the ideal breakfast menu was pancakes or waffles topped with a nauseating amount of maple syrup and whipped cream. It’s strange but it’s Jeonghan, so Seungcheol doesn’t question it.

It’s a routine by now, the way Seungcheol ladles the pancake mix into the pan, fetches the cat-patterned plate Jeonghan likes, pours some orange juice into Jeonghan’s white mug (Seungcheol’s mug, really, but he’d let Jeonghan assume ownership of it at some point). Jeonghan hasn’t emerged from the kitchen yet, and the last pancake is still cooking gently in the pan. Seungcheol closes his eyes, wonders if this is what domestic bliss feels like.

 

“Honestly,” Seungcheol turns to see his roommate Jihoon slumped against the doorframe, “it’s the middle of winter and you’re wearing, what? Boxers and sweatpants?”

 

“Only sweatpants, actually.” The judgemental look on Jihoon’s face intensifies.

 

“You’re disgusting.” He says, grabbing a bowl and knocking the box of Fruit Loops off the edge of the shelf, tossing it back on after he’s done. Seungcheol watches in part fascination and part concern as Jihoon pops open a can of coffee and proceeds to pour its contents into his cereal bowl.

 

“That coming from the person who thinks eating coffee with cereal is socially acceptable." Jihoon flips the bird at him and leaves for the couch.

 

“Cheollie!” Jeonghan waltzes in just as Jihoon has settled on the sofa, decked in only Seungcheol’s shirt and boxers.

 

(“You guys are both disgusting.” Seungcheol thinks he hears Jihoon say.)

 

“You made breakfast!” Seungcheol swats him gently on the head for stating the obvious as he puts the last pancake onto the plate.

 

“Help yourself. Whipped cream and maple syrup are in the fridge.”

 

“Oh honey, you treat me so well.” Jeonghan coos, saccharine and sweet as he takes the plate from Seungcheol. Seungcheol knows he’s joking but Jihoon still sends him a raised eyebrow over his bowl of cereal. He watches as Jeonghan carefully spritzes the whipped cream onto his stack of pancakes with a pout, then attempts to squirt the maple syrup over it all in an aesthetically pleasing manner. He fails, because the maple syrup bottle just lets out a disappointing noise (very much reminiscent of a fart) as the last tiny glob of the golden syrup falls out of the container and with a tiny 'plop' onto the whipped cream.

 

"Cheollie!" Jeonghan shakes the bottle in frustration. It's adorable. "There's no more maple syrup!"

 

"We can go get some. You only have classes in the afternoon, and I don't have classes today at all, so we can go grocery shopping now."

 

Jeonghan practically shovels the entire stack of pancakes into his mouth in his haste, mumbling what sounds like "I'm gonna go get changed first" before running to Seungcheol's bedroom with his mouth still full.

 

"Is there anything you want us to get?" Seungcheol asks as he puts Jeonghan's used fork and plate into the sink with a resigned sigh and fetching some post-its and a pen to jot down a shopping list.

 

"Mm, maybe."

 

"Yah, Choi Seungcheol! Hurry up or I'm taking your favourite hoodie!" A sudden shout from the bedroom has Seungcheol looking up immediately.

 

"I'm coming! Give me a sec!" He replies, deliberating whether or not to start writing, pen poised awkwardly in the air.

 

“Aish. You guys are so fucking married. I'll write the shopping list, now go take care of your husband before he steals your entire closet away.” Jihoon dismisses him with a wave of his hand, and Seungcheol has half a mind to stay before he remembers he keeps some rather interesting items in his closet (read: sex toys) that he doesn’t want Jeonghan to find. They were friends with benefits, but there were some things about his bed activities that Seungcheol did want to keep hidden.

 

Fortunately, Jeonghan has only commandeered one hoodie (unfortunately it's Seungcheol's favourite one but he'll concede because it looks good on Jeonghan) and a parka of his but he spends a good minute forcing a shirt and then a knitted sweater onto Seungcheol, deeming it enough because “you’re practically a volcano, Cheollie”.

 

When they return to the living room Jihoon’s gone, a shopping list scribbled hastily on a yellow post-it in his place. (Jeonghan pouts all the way to the supermarket when he realizes whipped cream is not on the list.)

 

They’re a box of frozen pizza and two cans of whipped cream into their shopping when Jeonghan decides to drop the inevitable, annual, Night Before Christmas request.

 

“By the way, I know a guy that’s holding a party tonight.”

 

“And?” Seungcheol questions, but he already knows what Jeonghan’s going to say. Every year he knows what Jeonghan’s going to say, and every year it always ends the same way.

 

“We’re going!” The other male says with a bright smile, wide eyes – it’s the same expression he’s pulled every time he’s actually has to convince Seungcheol to do something (mostly, Seungcheol just goes along with anything Jeonghan wants – how could he deny him anything?).

 

“Alright.” Arguing with Jeonghan is futile, especially when Seungcheol is so weak to the satisfied smile that forms on the other male’s face when Seungcheol acquiesces, like a cat that has gotten the cream. As if Seungcheol would ever say no to him.

 

Then the discussion is clearly over as Jeonghan pulls the sleeve of Seungcheol’s sweater, saying something about discounted eggnog.

 

 

 

Unsurprisingly, they had met at a party.

 

Seungcheol can never quite remember whose party it was and what it was for – the only details that stand out in his mind about that night are bright lights, loud music, and Jeonghan.

 

He can remember exactly what the other male was wearing, a leather jacket and a tank top even in the heat of bodies pressed too close together, with ripped jeans and black boots to top it all off. His mahogany hair had been scooped up into a messy bun, several loose strands lying on his shoulders. Three steps closer had granted Seungcheol the blessed ability of seeing even the glitter scattered on his defined collarbones.

 

Originally he'd gravitated towards the other male to pick him up - obviously, since there weren't many other things to do when you saw someone so drop-dead gorgeous in front of you. Seungcheol had made sure the way he grinded his hips into the other male's was anything but subtle. There weren't many other ways to read the way Seungcheol had pushed their bodies together, full of intention and insistence. He had tucked a strand of stray hair behind the other male's shoulder before leaning in.

 

"Your name?" Seungcheol had whispered into Jeonghan's ear, his voice deep, the voice that he knew made panties and boxers alike drop.

 

"Jeonghan." The other male had murmured back, smiling sweetly up at him. That was when Seungcheol knew he'd want more than just a one-night stand.

 

They'd fallen - not into bed, but into conversation, which seemed to flow as easy as water when it came to Jeonghan. He could entertain as well as he could listen, and under that thoughtful, knowing smile, Seungcheol had become enraptured.

 

Somehow, somewhere between the beats of the music, they had exchanged numbers, Jeonghan's tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth as he had typed in _Hannie the Angel_ as his contact name. Even then there had been a certain familiarity and closeness to the way Jeonghan had treated him that would always make Seungcheol inevitably want more.

 

Seungcheol hadn't got any that night, but he'd made what he could tentatively call a friend.

 

Yet another not-so-shocking fact – the first time they’d fallen into bed together was because of a party. This party, Seungcheol remembers (for some reason he'd only started remembering the parties after he'd met Jeonghan), was held at Soonyoung's place. It was the sort of party everyone knew and everyone attended, which made sense - Soonyoung was the kind of guy everyone knew and liked. The party was filled members of the dance team, members of Soonyoung's study groups, people of all kinds. Somewhere between the second and tenth shots their lips had found each other’s, Jeonghan’s hands had found Seungcheol’s hair and Seungcheol’s hands had found their place resting on Jeonghan’s waist.

 

Jeonghan's lips were just as Seungcheol had imagined. There was no way to describe that mesmerizing, enticing taste - clean like soap but sweet like honey, and had an addictiveness that no drug could imitate. The connection of their lips had fireworks exploding behind Seungcheol's eyes, hot and vibrant.

 

_Are you sure you want to do this with him?_

 

Seungcheol had seen all the warning signs, yet he had chosen to press against Jeonghan even firmer, licking insistently at his bottom lip, intertwining his tongue with Jeonghan's. Savouring the taste of the other male on his tongue, thinking that it would be the first and last time he would experience this paradise.

 

_This could ruin everything._

 

Jeonghan's skin was even paler under his clothes. Flushed and naked on the white sheets, Jeonghan looked like an ethereal angel.

 

"Beautiful." Seungcheol had whispered under his breath. If Jeonghan had heard him, he hadn't shown it, simply writhed in impatience as Seungcheol shucked off his tight jeans and v-necked tank top.

 

Crawling on top of Jeonghan, he had taken a moment - a very brief moment, but a precious one nonetheless - to simply admire the way Jeonghan looked splayed against _his_ sheets, the dazed look in his eyes; his fingers, clutching futilely at thin air for something to hold onto. Seungcheol had lowered himself, guided Jeonghan's hands to his biceps, and relished in the way the other male had let out a gentle sigh, as if touching Seungcheol had taken a weight off his chest.

 

"Hannie-yah," he had said, and Jeonghan had given him a tiny nod of acknowledgement, "tell me if you don't want this. Tell me if you don't want this anymore. Okay?" Seungcheol stilled until Jeonghan gave another few nods, a plead for Seungcheol to hurry up spilling out of his lips.

 

Seungcheol had found out a lot of things about Jeonghan that night. There was something precious in the way he whimpered whenever Seungcheol nipped gently at the nape of his neck, the way he moaned helplessly whenever his sensitive nipples were thumbed at. Truly, he was an angel - something to be adored.

 

When he reached completion inside Jeonghan, Seungcheol knew even in his brain the look on his face - the way he looked at Jeonghan like he had hung the stars, the moon and the sun onto the sky. Maybe Jeonghan's eyes had been closed because he knew. Jeonghan had always had a sixth sense for these kinds of things, even though Seungcheol knew from personal experience that he always chose not to say some things out loud for the sake of keeping the peace.

 

_You've ruined everything._

 

It had been passionate, sweet, rough – everything at once.

 

No matter how he tried, even as he fell asleep by Jeonghan's side with the fear of their friendship being completely ruined, Seungcheol could not find it in himself to regret what he and Jeonghan had done.

 

Then they had woken up the next day, stayed friends, not talked about it, then had proceeded to fall back into bed with each other on multiple occasions.

 

Seungcheol had been relieved, to say the least. Everything about him and Jeonghan stayed the same, except that sometimes Seungcheol got to lie with Jeonghan in bed, curl his arms around the other male and wish to the gods that he could call Jeonghan his. 

 

But at the same time, it hurt a little, to know that Jeonghan could slip into Seungcheol's bed so easily and still keep the same label of 'friends' on the both of them without feeling anything. Because Seungcheol certainly felt something - even now he wishes, a little bit, that he had done something, confessed, bare himself to Jeonghan, because sometimes being just friend with benefits feels a little suffocating.

 

But it's something that Seungcheol can't not have, not if he wants to stay by Jeonghan's side. And he wants to stay. He would stay forever, if Jeonghan would allow.

 

'Friends with benefits' was what Jeonghan had dubbed their situation. Seungcheol had nodded along, always placating, though in his head there was no way Seungcheol could and can call it that. In his mind there’s no label that fits them and their friendship, the domesticity, the sex, the way it sometimes seem to veer off into something a bit romantic.

 

But it isn’t.

 

It’s a bit hard to think about it, sometimes. Especially in times like this, when it’s Christmas Eve, early night, and Jeonghan’s in Seungcheol’s room, carefully and deliberately looking through the items in the latter’s closet to pull together a perfect outfit for the party for him, as he does before every party.

 

“In case you want to go pick up anyone else.” Jeonghan always says.

 

“I guess.” Seungcheol always replies even as his heart thuds to the bottom of his chest. _But I only want you._

The words never quite manage to make it out of his mouth, out of his mind. Even when he ushers them both into the party, his hand firm on the small of Jeonghan's back, head peering over his shoulder.

 

As usual, Jeonghan manages to spot someone he knows from across the crowd and his face lights up.

 

"I'll be back in a bit. Don't miss me!" Jeonghan says over his shoulder. Seungcheol replies with an amused "I won't" even though he knows he'll just stand in a corner and nurse his drink until Jeonghan returns. He stares at Jeonghan's back until it disappears into the crowd.

 

He sighs, takes a big swig of his drink.

 

"Hi. You're Seungcheol, right? Jihoon's roommate?" Seungcheol only realises the voice is talking to him when it mentions his name, and nearly spits out the liquid in his mouth and spills the drink in his hand in his haste to turn around. The guy who's standing there is a smiley-eyed young man - Seungcheol can't remember his name, only knows that he's one of the guys who plays Overwatch with Jihoon.

 

"Minhyuk?" He says tentatively, and receives a bright nod in return.

 

"How's it going with your boyfriend?"

 

"Boyfriend?" Seungcheol asks. He doesn't have one. Why would Minhyuk ask about it, anyway?

 

"Jeonghan." Minhyuk clarifies; his smile doesn't falter in the slightest. Seungcheol almost frowns. Why would Minhyuk ask about Jeonghan? Is he interested?

 

 _He can't be, because Jeonghan's mine,_ Seungcheol thinks before he can stop himself.  _No. Jeonghan isn't yours. He's your friend, your fuckbuddy, your everything, but he isn't yours._

 

_Stop overreacting. Stop being possessive over things you don't have._

__Get it together, Choi Seungcheol_  _

"Ah, Jeonghan..." Seungcheol smiles, but he knows it looks fake and awkward even from an outsider's perspective (at least his inner turmoil is masked), "he isn't my boyfriend." He doesn't ask how Minhyuk knows about it. Maybe from Jihoon, but it doesn't seem like something his roommate would do. Maybe Minhyuk's asking because he likes Jeonghan. His heart gives a possessive squeeze, and Seungcheol doesn't know why. Jeonghan isn't even his. Jeonghan isn't his.

 

"He isn't your boyfriend?" Minhyuk says, eyeing him skeptically. Seungcheol sighs.

 

"I wish." He says before he can stop himself. Thankfully, Minhyuk just lets out a sympathetic sigh, patting him on the back and curling an arm over his shoulder. Seungcheol's glad the other male doesn't look relieved.

 

"Seungcheol-ah!" Seungcheol's head snaps up at the sound of Jeonghan's voice. It's tinged with a sharp, negative note but Seungcheol can't quite place it. Minhyuk scoffs a little and Seungcheol's face colours. He knows he's completely whipped for Jeonghan, a fact he's long come to terms with, but it's still a bit embarrassing.

 

"Sorry! Saw Jimin and his boyfriend, had to go say hi. Who are you?" Jeonghan sounds a little testy as he looks over him and Minhyuk, maybe due to the influence of alcohol.  _He could be jealous_ , Seungcheol can't help but think. It's definitely not true but he still wants to hope.

 

"Minhyuk. It's nice to meet you." Jeonghan shakes the proffered hand before turning to Seungcheol, wrapping his fingers around the latter's wrist and pulling.

 

"It's hot in here, let's go out for a bit."

 

They wander into the backyard; Seungcheol falls back onto the grass, legs spread, and Jeonghan takes that as an opportunity to collapse onto his lap. They play-wrestle a little as Seungcheol tries to remove Jeonghan from his lap. In the end they both fall back onto the cut grass, Jeonghan lying with his head and torso situated comfortably on Seungcheol's chest, their foreheads lined with sweat.

 

Seungcheol closes his eyes, hums to some nonsensical tune as Jeonghan scrolls through his phone with one hand, the other hand reaching back to play with Seungcheol's hair. A soft tune begins to play.

 

 _When I was just a little girl I asked my mother: what I will be?_  

 

"An oldie?" Jeonghan hums, getting to his feet.

 

"Dance with me?" Seungcheol takes the hand Jeonghan holds out, assuming the classic ballroom dancing pose - his hand on Jeonghan's waist, the other holding Jeonghan's right hand.

 

Jeonghan smiles at him, hair falling out of his messily-tied bun and drooping over his eyes. It feels like the first time Seungcheol saw him across the dance floor and had immediately been entranced. Like a spell, almost.

 

Almost shyly, Seungcheol interlaces their fingers, letting Jeonghan lead them in swaying to the beat of the music.

 

_Will I be pretty? Will I be rich? Here's what she said to me._

 

_Que sera, sera. Whatever will be, will be._

 

“The future's not ours to see.” Jeonghan hums casually, lifting Seungcheol’s arm up so he can twirl into Seungcheol’s chest, smiling up at him in a way that looks strangely bittersweet. Seungcheol's probably imagining things, but the look in his eyes is a little like longing.

 

He's definitely imagining things.

 

“Jeonghan?”

 

The other male seems to snap out of whatever daze he’s in at the sound of his own name. Seungcheol tries to catch his eye, but Jeonghan turns.

 

“Let's go back in."

 

 

 

The first time Jeonghan disappears Seungcheol is extremely alarmed.

 

They'd been not-quite friends, not-quite fuck buddies then, just two people drifting every now and then into each other's space (more often it was Jeonghan finding Seungcheol in the strangest of times).

 

His last text to Jeonghan hadn't been read, and god, even anyone who didn't really know Jeonghan knew that he checked his phone a million times a day. Seungcheol's mind had wandered back to his most recent interactions with the other male, wondering if he'd done something wrong.

 

Seungcheol hadn't been able to sleep that night, his mind vividly searching for a reason, an answer. He came up with nothing, his brain only producing more and more far-fetched possibilities.

 

Even now, Seungcheol can't recall how or when he fell asleep, somewhere between the obscene hours of one and three, perhaps, something utterly ridiculous.

 

His doorbell had rang at five am in the morning.

 

Seungcheol remembers. Pushing back his blankets, dragging his feet out of bed. Pulling his hood over his head - it had been a freezing winter night but still he had only worn a hoodie and a pair of boxers to bed. Trailing his feet over the cold floor, shivering. Peering through the keyhole, seeing a flash of blonde hair. Then opening the door as fast as possible, ignoring the sand in Jeonghan's messy hair, long and shining a pale gold then, ignoring his wet clothes and pulling him in for a hug.

 

Seungcheol had forced Jeonghan into the bathroom for a hot shower, making him a hot chocolate and coaxing him under the covers and into bed. Cuddled him a while before asking why he'd left.

 

"Nothing. I just feel like leaving, sometimes." _To be free,_ Jeonghan didn't say, but Seungcheol had read the look in his eyes and he had known.

 

Still knows.

 

He'd found the train tickets everywhere - between a book of his Jeonghan had been reading, in the pocket of his worn leather jacket, in his pencil case. The destinations always varied, but they were usually always away from the hustle and bustle of the city, the crowds and the noise.

 

(One time Seungcheol had dreamed of accompanying Jeonghan. He can't remember what he dreamt of, only Jeonghan's hand in his and the feeling of cool wind against his face, water and sand between his toes.)

 

Every time Jeonghan leaves Seungcheol feels like a lost puppy waiting for its master to come home, never knowing if its master was thinking of it, never knowing where its master had gone. On these days, Jihoon shoots him a look of pity before slinking to his studio to work on his music.

 

It's all so stupid, so utterly pathetic, but Seungcheol can't help it.

 

He can't help trying to hold onto Jeonghan, effortlessly beautiful, carelessly elegant Jeonghan, who doesn't belong to him.

 

 

 

"Mom?" Seungcheol presses the phone closer to his ear.

 

"Seungcheol-ah!" His mother sounds warm over the phone, familiar and welcoming, "How are you? I've missed you! Are you eating well?"

 

"Mom!" Seungcheol chuckles, angling the phone so that he can run his fingers through Jeonghan's hair as he talks, "I'm fine! I'm sorry that I can't come home for Christmas." His mother says it's fine, but asks him to call home more often. Seungcheol promises.

 

The sunlight feels too bright this morning. Jeonghan had fallen asleep with his back towards Seungcheol - the latter can't tell if it's anger or frustration, what this strong emotion is directed at, and Jeonghan had remained mum after that moment yesterday night when their eyes locked and the whole world seemed to stop. Then he had insisted on following Seungcheol home, silently stripping off his leather pants and sheer mesh shirt, choosing one of Seungcheol's shirts from his closet to sleep in. But now Jeonghan's pressed up against Seungcheol's side, hair all mussed up and looking irresistibly comfortable.

 

When Seungcheol had slipped under the sheets and onto the other side of the bed, Jeonghan had been on his side, facing the wall. The all-too-serene way his lips were closed and the gentle fall and rise of his chest betrayed Jeonghan - Jeonghan was great at acting but he didn't know, could never know that Seungcheol's eyes were always on him. So he knew Jeonghan wasn't asleep because when the other male was really asleep, his lips would be parted, the slightest bit of drool escaping (it would be disgusting if it was anyone else, but because it was Jeonghan it seemed too endearing to be real), and the rise and fall of his chest would be a touch stronger.

 

Even a whisper in his ear, something that usually got Jeonghan unusually riled up in bed, elicited no reaction. Seungcheol had even tried throwing a casual arm over Jeonghan, only to have the other male fake a few irritated groans and roll even further away (no small feat considering that Seungcheol's bed was a single).

 

Seungcheol can't help himself.

 

He bends down to give Jeonghan a peck on the forehead.

 

"I love you." Seungcheol whispers into the other male's hair with a sort of confidence that one can only have on a lazy, late morning.  _I love you, and I love how we are now._

 

He gives Jeonghan another kiss, this time on his cheek, a little closer to his lips.

 

_But that doesn't stop me from wanting more._


	2. only fools do what i do (and i'm a fool for you)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how many clichés can i put into one story pt. 2
> 
> sorry this took quite some time - i have no excuses, really. i was just dissatisfied at how some parts turned out and had to rewrite them.
> 
> this might be updated again with edits

"Cheol-ah! Cheol-ah! Wake up!"

 

It feels like there’s a warm presence surrounding Seungcheol, the areas of mattress on either sides of his hips pushed down. That’s funny, because Seungcheol distinctly remembers going home by himself last night.

 

He opens his eyes. Seungcheol doesn’t know why he didn’t expect it but Jeonghan is sitting almost directly on his crotch, humming a tune as he twirls strands of his fringe between pale fingers.

 

"Mm..." Seungcheol murmurs, throwing an arm over his eyes and preparing to fall back into slumber. "Too bright."

 

"No! Wake up!" Jeonghan says, pulling his arm away and leaning closer - Seungcheol can feel Jeonghan's chest against his and it's not just the other male's body warmth that makes creates the gentle heat in his heart. He chuckles before his lips curve into a frown - he went to sleep by himself last night.

 

"Okay, okay...Where were you yesterday?" Jeonghan always leaves and never tells him where he goes but Seungcheol never knows better not to ask. The day before, Seungcheol had awoken to a phantom head on his bicep, his legs cold without someone else's legs entangled with them. There was a swipe of rouge at the edge of his lips when he looked into the bathroom mirror, the same shade as one of the lip tints Jeonghan likes to keep on Seungcheol's bedside table.

 

Seungcheol can't help the usual pang in his chest - it's normal, perfectly routine for Jeonghan to simply disappear without a word sometimes, but that doesn't stop the way Seungcheol's heart breaks a little every time.

 

(Of course within the next few days Jeonghan will return, pressing insistent kisses against Seungcheol's lips like he's apologising, like he's gluing the pieces of Seungcheol's heart back together. He always does.)

 

“I had stuff to do, forgot to tell you.” Jeonghan says flippantly. “But we’re still going out today.” His answers are usually like this - careless, directing Seungcheol towards somewhere else in an attempt to avoid the unspoken. Seungcheol ruminates on the second part before remembering the date - the day after Christmas.

 

Right. Him and Jeonghan have a tradition - a small bit of time that seems to belong only to the two of them. It's always the day after Christmas - the muted leftovers of whatever festivity there was the day before, the Christmas streamers and decorations still at storefronts even though their time is over, at least for another year.

 

Every year, on the twenty-sixth, they’ll put down anything they have to do to escape their mundane college lives and actually have some fun (Jeonghan's wise words of persuasion). It really just means another day of Seungcheol entertaining Jeonghan. It's usually them taking a bus and getting off at the nearest shopping mall they see - “nothing says a bigger ‘fuck you’ to commercial Christmas shit than buying all that shit after Christmas”, Jeonghan likes to say. Seungcheol thinks Jeonghan’s very cute when he’s mad against the world. Then they just hang around the area, doing whatever takes their fancy whenever they want.

 

Honestly, Seungcheol doesn't think something they've done for two years can be dubbed a tradition. But it just feels right to call it that, natural, like the way Jeonghan fits into Seungcheol's arms, the way their lips slot together like two pieces of a puzzle.

 

"Choi Seungcheol! Stop thinking and start getting ready!"

 

"You sound like a mom!" Seungcheol snaps out of his daze and shouts back, which earns him a pillow to his head. "Now get off." He tells Jeonghan, and the other male gives him a very dissatisfied pout before he rolls off the bed. The winter air is frigid against his bare skin so he picks out a hoodie Jeonghan bought him for his birthday to wear along with a pair of warm sweatpants.

 

He locks the bathroom door before looking at his still-smiling reflection. Just the thought of spending the day with Jeonghan - just the thought of Jeonghan, actually - makes him so happy it's silly. Seungcheol spritzes extra cologne and runs his hands through his hair, adds a little hair gel after careful deliberation. The hoodie fits comfortable on him, the usual cozy-boyfriend look Seungcheol knows he looks great in.

 

(Seungcheol wonders if this is what it would be like to get ready for a date with Jeonghan.)

 

"Okay, I'm ready to - "

 

“Ya, Seungcheol!” Jeonghan cuts him off, eyes wide and bright with excitement. His stuffed backpack, an artsy leather one, bounces on his back as he rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet in excitement. Seungcheol looks around the room helplessly as if it will give him any clues.

 

“Hm?” Seungcheol replies dumbly, still half in a daze. Still rambling randomly in excitement, Jeonghan encases Seungcheol's wrist in his thin fingers as he drags him.

 

“Look out the window!"

 

Jeonghan has somehow managed to pry open the age-old window in his room (a miracle in itself), and Seungcheol peers through the culmination of several years' worth of dirt to see ethereal, ivory flakes falling from the sky.

 

“It’s so beautiful!”

 

Jeonghan’s eyes are wide, his lashes fluttering as he blinks, his pink lips slightly parted in awe. His hands, slim and strong, are curled around the ledge of the window, and his bits of his hair, previously tucked behind his ears, flutter in the winter breeze.

 

“Yeah,” Seungcheol agrees, “beautiful.”

 

Seungcheol only manages to tear Jeonghan away after he’s taken a hundred and ten photos of the snow. He somehow manages to stuff a beanie onto Jeonghan’s head and wave a goodbye to Jihoon (who shouts “Have fun on your date!” to their backs) before releasing Jeonghan into the snow like letting a hyper, wriggly puppy out of his arms. Jeonghan normally prides himself on his “cool, chic and a bit of an asshole” image, but with his tongue out, trying to catch flakes of snow on the tip, Jeonghan looks cute and ridiculously innocent. Or maybe Seungcheol is a bit too biased.

 

Jeonghan in the snow is adorable, but Seungcheol ends up forcing him into the train station when his lips start turning a little pale and his teeth are chattering gently.

 

Like every year before, Jeonghan chooses a random train station using numbers (“Your birth month is August, so we’ll go to the eighth stop on this line today!”) and insists on buying snacks from the convenient store although the train ride is only around half an hour long. Seungcheol pays, as usual, because Jeonghan had wandered off to poke at the vending machine after putting what Seungcheol presumes is his last pack of sour gummies onto the counter. Some people might think Jeonghan does things like this on purpose, throws his responsibilities off onto other people knowingly, but Seungcheol knows that Jeonghan isn’t like that. One could say he was a free soul, a wandering spirit with a heart of gold (sure, Jeonghan enjoyed cheating at games but if someone needed help Jeonghan was always there to give a hand and do whatever he could to help).

 

Like now, the way he helps an old lady onto the train with a friendly smile, the way he attempts to rip off some fabric from his shirt when a little girl trips and scrapes her ankle (Seungcheol has to remind him that he always keeps a few band-aids in his pocket because Jeonghan has a knack for getting injured too), the way he frantically tells Seungcheol to get up so he can offer their seats to an elderly couple that’s just entered the train.

 

“Someone’s being unusually nice today.” Seungcheol teases even though he knows Jeonghan’s like this everyday.

 

"I can be nice. You just don't deserve it." Jeonghan harrumphs, staring firmly out the window.

 

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding." Seungcheol curls one hand and then the other around Jeonghan's waist, propping his head up on Jeonghan's left shoulder. The landscape whirs past them - gleaming buildings with an occasional flash of greenery. The sky is baby blue and the clouds look like spun cotton candy.

 

Still sulking a little, Jeonghan shakes Seungcheol's hands away, but Seungcheol can see his reflection in the mirror and there's definitely a small smile curling the corner of Jeonghan's lips. A fond sigh escapes Seungcheol's parted lips as he drops his head to rest against Jeonghan's back, feeling his body warmth and the gentle thud of his heart through the fabric of his shirt.

 

Seungcheol almost falls asleep like that, lulled to sleep by Jeonghan's rhythmic breaths, until Jeonghan gives a tiny wriggle, mumbling "one stop left" under his breath. Giving a small hum in response, Seungcheol checks the time on his phone to see several new messages.

 

**from: unknown**

_Hey Seungcheol_

_This is Minhyuk from the party_

_Jihoon gave me your number_

**from: seungcheol**

_Hey Minhyuk_

_Surprised Jihoon gave you my number; he usually doesn't bother with social things of any sort_

 

"Seungcheol! We're here!" Seungcheol looks up from his phone immediately, reflexively turning it off with a click of his finger. Jeonghan is already standing outside the train's open doors, waving happily and bouncing on the balls of his feet. He's so carefree he doesn't spot another passenger running past him. They collide, and Seungcheol runs forward, grabs Jeonghan's hand before he falls to the ground. The other passenger yells out an apology as they continue running.

 

"Careful." Seungcheol reminds Jeonghan, one hand around his wrist and the other under his right armpit for support. The other male winces a little and Seungcheol almost starts panicking.

 

"You're okay, right?" He immediately pulls Jeonghan to his feet, noticing the scrape on his knee at once.

 

"It's just a little scrape." The other male says, but Seungcheol is already bending down, retrieving a band-aid from his jeans pocket and hastily tearing it open.

 

"That's not a little scrape!" There's blood and oh god why did Seungcheol not stop that guy before he could even run into Jeonghan? "Silly, why'd you wear jeans with such big rips in the knees?" he chastises, tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth as he concentrates on plastering the band-aid over the wound.

 

“I like them.” Jeonghan mumbles quietly. When Seungcheol looks up at him, Jeonghan’s looking in the other direction, his cheeks a bit pink. The cold, probably.

 

 _I guess I’ll keep carrying the band-aids around for you._ Jeonghan attempts to stand up and visibly winces, nearly tripping again. Seungcheol’s eyes widen in shock before the other male turns to him with a cocked brow and a smirk, undisguised mirth on his face - he even has the audacity to jump up and run a few circles around Seungcheol just for fun. Seungcheol splutters. _Idiot._

 

 

"Discount section, here I come!" Jeonghan shouts the second they arrive at the mall, and several post-Christmas shoppers turn to look at them curiously. A hand on the small of the other male's back, Seungcheol quickly steers them past the shelves. Jeonghan looks a tad disgruntled by his actions; his expression quickly changes when they reach their destination.

 

"Look at this!" Jeonghan lifts up a notoriously neon box plastered with Disney princesses and frosted cupcakes, "my sister would have loved this a couple years ago. She would’ve have bought it for this much too..." he squints at the label stating the product's price, clearly judging.

 

Some rummaging turns up several cans of dented soup ("Cream of mushroom! You can heat this up for breakfast next time"), chocolate ("Chocolate is universal, Seungcheol"), and a bottle of alcohol that makes Jeonghan throw down everything else in his hands to cradle it in his arms.

 

"Look, Cheol." Jeonghan says reverently, looking at the bottle like it's his newborn child, "more than fifty percent off."

 

Seungcheol ends up carrying it all to the counter - the seven cans of soup, the crumpled packs of chocolate _and_ the bottle of alcohol, hiding his face behind the pile as Jeonghan giggles and taps at his biceps so loudly that several teenage girls in the corner turn around.

 

"Can you appreciate my biceps in silence?" He hisses a bit, blushing even though he's quite pleased about it, inside (he’s flexing a bit just to impress Jeonghan, but he’d never tell the other male that). He can get muscles quite easily but he did have to put quite a bit of effort in to actually work out (unlike Jeonghan, who ogled him every time he worked out and proceeded to get his own workout afterwards by attempting to get fucked by Seungcheol on every surface of the changing room). It's nice to be appreciated.

 

"I want everyone to appreciate your biceps, even though they clearly belong to me." Seungcheol imagines an arrogant little Siamese cat. The similarities are striking.

 

"Not really yours." _I want to be yours._ Seungcheol looks down, as if looking up would be Jeonghan would lock eyes with him and somehow steal all his secrets and read all the feelings Seungcheol's been keeping bottled up inside him since the day he met Jeonghan.

 

"Hm." Jeonghan turns to skip towards the counter, smiling winningly at the cashier while Seungcheol tries to pick up his pace with the load on his hands. As the cashier scans the items with no less than one judgmental stare towards the two of them, Jeonghan fumbles and searches in his pockets - jacket pockets, jean pockets. His hands come up empty and he holds them up to Seungcheol. It's pretty self-explanatory, really. Sometimes Jeonghan is so flightly he forgets important things like his keys (usually just leads to him sleeping over at Seungcheol's) or his wallet (now). (Strangely enough, it's never his phone.)

 

"Cheol," Jeonghan pouts and it's depreciating, really, how weak Seungcheol is for that goddamn pout, "be a man and buy these for me."

 

"You're a man too." Seungcheol mutters, but fishes out his wallet all the same.

 

Jeonghan wanders off at some point and manages to reenter the scene just as Seungcheol's about to pay, a party-sized pack of sushi (predictably heavily discounted), one pair of chopsticks and two straws in his hands. Jeonghan giggles as the dumps the sushi on top of their other purchases.

 

The cashier gives them another weird look.

 

They wind up beside the water fountain (where Jeonghan had wandered to despite there being about ten tables available at the food court; Seungcheol has learned to stop questioning him a long time ago).

 

"Were you planning to eat all this alone?" Seungcheol asks, and Jeonghan shakes his head in confusion before he realizes there's only one pair of chopsticks in his hands.

 

"Mhm..." Seungcheol says as Jeonghan's eyes widen in realization.

 

"It's okay! We'll share." Jeonghan opens the pack of sushi, quickly stuffing a piece of egg sushi into his mouth with a satisfied moan. (Seungcheol junior absolutely does not twitch in his pants, nope.) He passes the chopsticks to Seungcheol, who takes two pieces of shrimp sushi because if he knows Jeonghan, the other male will end up unintentionally hogging the chopsticks. And Seungcheol's right, of course, so he spends a good while simply scrolling through things on his phone, showing Jeonghan some cat videos and occasionally taking a swig from the bottle of alcohol.

 

He's about to show Jeonghan a video of a cat shaking its head (the internet is amazing) when a banner appears at the top of his phone, a message notification.

 

**from: minhyuk**

_I know right_

_But surprises happen, right?_

_Haha_

_I was just curious_

_You like Jeonghan, right?_

_Why aren't you guys dating_

Seungcheol takes a deep breath. He was definitely not mentally prepared to answer such a loaded question, but can do naught be glare at the bright screen of his phone as he debates on an answer.

 

"What is it?" Jeonghan asks curiously. Seungcheol tilts his phone towards himself, thumbing a quick reply before shoving it back in his pocket.

 

**from: seungcheol**

_He doesn't like relationships, so..._

_Not going to force myself onto him or something_

 

"Nothing." He replies Jeonghan hastily; Jeonghan gives him a strange look but says nothing, just plops another piece of sushi into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully at it. Seungcheol can usually read Jeonghan's expressions and mannerisms really well (it's not creepy, it's simple observation), but he's a bit lost at this moment.

 

Seungcheol finds that this happens the most when he and Jeonghan play with the boundaries of their not-quite-friends-not-quite-lovers relationship - the second they step towards one end, Jeonghan seems to clam up and Seungcheol can’t read his expressions as he sweeps them back towards where they started. Seungcheol wants to say that he’s given up, that he’s accepted that they would never be anything more, but he’s never been a great liar.

 

He can never stop hoping.

 

Sometimes it hurts to see couples on the street, holding hands and snuggling into each other, sharing kisses. Then looking at Jeonghan, whose hand is usually in his, and dropping a gentle kiss on his forehead, cheek or lips because even though they’re not like that, Seungcheol can at least pretend.

 

The worst part is that Jeonghan never stops him.

 

"Rook at dem," Jeonghan says through a mouthful of sushi, waving his chopsticks for emphasis, "fucking cuple 'sthetic goals." Seungcheol peers curiously over his head, eyes narrowing when he spots a couple sharing a scarf. _We're cuter._ He’s also pretty sure he and Jeonghan have done that before.

 

It was this same day a year ago, that Seungcheol is sure of. Jeonghan had spontaneously decided that they should go to Daegu and see Seungcheol’s family, only to freak out about it when they finally reached his family’s doorstep.

 

“What if your family hates me, Cheol?” Jeonghan had said, burying his head into Seungcheol’s chest. Seungcheol had simply stroked through Jeonghan’s hair - shoulder-long and bleach blonde at the time, and had gently reassured Jeonghan that his family would love him.

 

Unsurprisingly, his family had adored Jeonghan with his silly jokes and careless laughter, his teasing comments and the graceful ease with which he inserted himself into their conversations. His mother had pulled him aside and told him to do something, quick, before someone took that beautiful boy away from him. Seungcheol had blushed - he’d introduced Jeonghan as a friend but his mother could always tell - and had made a weak promise to try. He always tried. It just never quite worked.

 

“They liked me.” Jeonghan had mumbled into Seungcheol’s shirt that night, head lying comfortably on the latter’s chest. He had sounded a little disbelieving, which Seungcheol couldn’t quite understand.

 

“Thank you, Seungcheol.” Jeonghan had said this as he rolled to the other side of the bed, where he had fallen asleep with his back towards Seungcheol. By this time Seungcheol already knew not to try to reach out to him, curl an arm over his waist and pull him into his chest, because Jeonghan would probably opt for sleeping on the floor, or some other method of escape. Pushing Seungcheol away by some invisible force, as Jeonghan always did whenever he felt like they were wandering into territories he didn’t know and didn’t want to know.

 

The next day Jeonghan had held his hand as usual; it felt like the universe was punishing Seungcheol. Teasing him with Jeonghan’s hand in his, his warmth against Seungcheol’s shoulder, only to take it away.

 

_Stop making me feel like this, Jeonghan-ah. It’s not good for either of us._

 

The memories are always bittersweet, and Seungcheol lets out a gentle sigh as Jeonghan presses back into him, his head on Seungcheol’s shoulder. He continues pointing out random couples, raising a brow at the ones wearing couple clothing and squealing quietly at the ones he thinks have “great couple aesthetic”.

 

As far as Seungcheol can remember, Jeonghan has always admired relationships. If Seungcheol had a penny for every time Jeonghan leaned back into him or whispered over his shoulder "couple goals" as he sneakily spied on a couple in public, he'd probably be a billionaire.

 

Yet as far as Seungcheol can remember, Jeonghan has always been adamant on not being in a relationship.

 

 

Seungcheol doesn't feel like he's a bad catch. He's good-looking, and when he goes to bars at least a few people try to pick him up for his thick thighs. It's just his luck that the only person he wants to be with doesn't want to be in a relationship.

 

"Why do you like to watch couples so much if you don't want to be in a relationship?" Seungcheol asks, unable to help himself.

 

"Hm...couples are pretty? I don't know." Jeonghan answers. Seungcheol can't help the feeling that Jeonghan _does_ know, and that the reason behind it all is something that hurts so much he can't help but hide it.

 

“Seungcheol," Seungcheol snaps to attention like a puppy called by its master, "I want a hot chocolate. Go get me a hot chocolate.” It’s clear Jeonghan wants to avoid the previous topic, and Seungcheol doesn’t have it in him to ask more.

 

“But the line…” Seungcheol’s words trail off as he fixes his stare on the very, very long line comprising of at least twenty people at the Starbucks on the floor above.

 

“Please?” Jeonghan says, eyes wide, and Seungcheol rolls his eyes good-naturedly.

 

“Fine.”

 

“Jeonghan-ah!” Seungcheol calls out into the empty space. He’s actually pretty used to Jeonghan pulling childish pranks like this, so he doesn’t flinch even when warm palms close over his eyes. His back is to the water fountain, so Jeonghan must be standing on the edge of it, legs bent a bit - Seungcheol can almost imagine the impish smile adorning the other male’s features.

 

“I have a present for you!” Jeonghan singsongs, “Close your eyes.”

 

Perhaps it’s a testament of how much Seungcheol is used to doing anything that Jeonghan demands of him that he closes his eyes without a millisecond of hesitation. He stands there obediently, waiting (Seungcheol can hear a click as Jeonghan opens the clasp on his bag, then vague rustling noises as he rummages through its contents).

 

“No peeking.” Jeonghan warns. Seungcheol can hear the telltale thump of Jeonghan’s bag hitting the floor before Jeonghan’s chest is pressed against Seungcheol’s back, arms winding something warm around Seungcheol’s throat. Seungcheol can’t help the smile that blooms on his face as he finally opens his eyes to see a fluffy grey scarf wrapped around his neck. He can see little mistakes in the knitting that indicate Jeonghan must have made it himself, and the thought of flighty, restless Jeonghan actually buckling down and taking the time to knit something for Seungcheol spreads a warmth in his chest.

 

“It’s beautiful.” He says reverently, “thank you.”

 

“No need to say it, I know this is the best present you’ve ever received.” Jeonghan boasts, flicking his hair, but even Seungcheol can see the pleased curl of his lips. Seungcheol keeps the scarf on even as they finish the pack of sushi together, and he almost gets a stain on it when Jeonghan convinces him to try his alcohol-infused hot chocolate. Finishing the entire party pack of sushi leaves the two of them lounging by the water fountain with a half-empty bottle of alcohol and full bellies.

 

"Hey, Seungcheol. Let's go to the beach."

 

It's worded as a statement, yet ten minutes later finds Seungcheol seated next to Jeonghan on a train towards the nearest station within walking distance from the sea, the neck of the bottle of alcohol clutched between his fingers.

 

He has several messages, all from Minhyuk,

 

“Jeonghan-ah! Look here!” Seungcheol manages to capture the exact moment Jeonghan turns around, wisps of his hair flying in the wind, eyes wide and lips slightly open. The slight glow of the sun behind Jeonghan makes it look like there’s a halo around his head. A halo for an angel.

 

Jeonghan comes rushing back, running over the rocks haphazardly. “Can I see it?”

 

“Wait.” Seungcheol opens his messages, then holds the phone close so that Jeonghan can’t read them (he can practically see Jeonghan’s pout even from behind the phone).

 

**from: minhyuk**

_You’re a cool guy, Choi Seungcheol._

_I can see why Jeonghan likes you so much._

 

 _I really don’t think he does_ , Seungcheol types, but he hastily deletes it. He doesn’t quite know how to reply to that.

 

“Who are you texting?” Jeonghan asks. The tone of his question sounds eerily familiar.

 

“It’s nothing.” Seungcheol says, immediately stowing away his phone into his pocket. He’d say the reason for not letting Jeonghan see what he’s doing, unlike normally, is because no matter how much he cares about Jeonghan and would share everything and anything with him, Seungcheol cares about his own privacy too.

 

But really Seungcheol doesn’t want Jeonghan to spot his own name on the monitor of Seungcheol’s phone and get too curious. He’d never be able to deny Jeonghan the satisfaction to his curiousity, but it’d ruin everything.

 

Because Jeonghan doesn’t like him that way and seeing that message would probably only make it weird.

 

“Fine. Don’t let me see.” Jeonghan pouts and Seungcheol can feel the impending silent treatment if he doesn’t do something immediately.

 

“Yah, Jeonghannie, it’s just a text from my mom, alright? Wishing me Merry Christmas.” It’s a white lie that pours through Seungcheol’s lips like honey.

 

“Jeonghan-ah…” He wheedles when the other male turns his back to him, sneaking his arms around Jeonghan’s waist to assume an all-too-familiar backhug position. Jeonghan gives a small whine and clutches Seungcheol’s arms, but he doesn’t do or say anything. They stand there and watch in silence as the sun finally disappears behind the mountains.

 

“Don’t you sometimes wish...” Jeonghan lets his words trail off into nothingness. Seungcheol wonders what he would have said. _Would you have said you wished you had someone? Because you’ve always had me._

 

“Why are you here, Choi Seungcheol?” Jeonghan asks. Seungcheol’s about to answer “Because of you”, but Jeonghan keeps talking.

 

“I know you were planning to go back to Daegu for the holidays. I saw the ticket in your pocket, but a day later I saw it in the bin. You shouldn’t be here, Seungcheol. You should be home, with your family. You shouldn’t be here. You don’t have to be here, anyways.” Jeonghan scoffs a little, escapes Seungcheol’s arms even though the latter tightens his grip around Jeonghan’s lithe frame.

 

“You probably don’t even want to be here,” Jeonghan continues and Seungcheol wants to cup his cheeks, look him in the eye and tell him there’s nowhere he’d rather be, “not with some fuckbuddy who keeps playing you because you don’t deserve that shit. You don’t deserve all my shit.” _I deal with all your shit because I want to, goddamnit._

 

"You shouldn’t be here, you know? Find something else better to do with your time. You should go spend your time on your family? On...whoever you were texting just now. Why are you fucking wasting your time with me?" Jeonghan sounds angry, frustrated, and above all, tired. Honestly, Seungcheol’s tired too, running circles after someone who wants him but doesn’t really want him. Maybe today they’ll end this - whatever’s going on between them - for once and for all.

 

Seungcheol can’t tell if he’s scared or if he’s relieved.

 

“I’m here because I want to. I want to spend Christmas with you.” Seungcheol says softly. _Ask me why. It’s high time this happened, anyway._

 

“I wouldn’t want to spend Christmas with me.” Jeonghan’s voice is tight and soft, like there’s a rock in his throat. _Don’t say that._

“I do. I always do. I’m here.” A small tear forms at the corner of Jeonghan’s eye at Seungcheol’s words, and the latter watches it roll down the smooth curve of Jeonghan’s cheek.

 

“I wouldn’t want to spend any time with me.” Jeonghan finally says, his shoulders slumped. As if by instinct, he leans into Seungcheol, who can feel his hoodie becoming wet, can feel the heaving of Jeonghan’s chest as the tears he’s suppressed for so long pour out.

 

“But I want to.” Pulling Jeonghan away from his chest then holding his waist to reassure him, Seungcheol widens his eyes and leans forward, trying to show how earnest he is, “I want to spend Christmas with you. I want to spend time with you. Because I-I…” Seungcheol falters because this isn’t exactly the way he wanted to confess his feelings but fuck it. Because he’ll do anything to replace the tears on Jeonghan’s face.

 

“I love you, Jeonghan.”

 

This doesn't seem to stop tears pouring out of Jeonghan's eyes - if anything, the tears that slide down the curve of his cheek increase in number. It’s too late to go back, and there’s so much Seungcheol’s been wanting to say that it all spills out.

 

"I know you don't really want to be in a relationship, but I still...you know I dream of being with you everyday, right? I haven't woken up beside anyone else since the day we hooked up."

 

"I know," Jeonghan breathes, his voice still thick with tears, "I know that." He pauses for a second.

 

"I still don't want a relationship," Seungcheol's heart stops, thuds to the bottom of his chest into a million pieces and he can't bear to look up Jeonghan because he doesn't want to hear the other male look away, leave him as he has done so many times before, only not to come back this time, "I don't want a relationship. But I want you. I've always wanted you." Jeonghan immediately hides in Seungcheol’s chest again, his face in the scarf like he’s overwhelmed by his own words.

 

Seungcheol's gaping, he knows he is. But it's not anyone's business because did Jeonghan just say that he, hater of all relationships and any form of commitment, would want to be with Seungcheol?

 

_Is this real?_

 

"Um. I...I really don't think I have to tell you that I've always wanted you." Seungcheol chuckles a bit, even though he's so nervous, wants to get this right so bad that his sentences are coming out fragmented, "It's kind of obvious. I just - I just want to take care of you, be by your side. For as long as you'll let me, that is." Seungcheol says.

 

Jeonghan's attempting to flood the scarf at this point.

 

"Yah, Jeonghan-ah...stop crying." Seungcheol nudges the other male awkwardly, rocks him back and forth in his arms.

 

"I'm allowed to fucking cry when you say shit like this, dipshit." Jeonghan mutters into the scarf, his voice thick with tears. At least he's regained some of his fire, if the swearing is anything to go by; Seungcheol runs a hand through Jeonghan's hair, an affectionate smile blooming on his lips.

 

"Does that mean you'll be my boyfriend?" Jeonghan swats him lightly, choking a laugh against Seungcheol's chest.

 

"You didn't even fucking ask properly. Do this in chronological order, you fucking ass."

 

"Alright." Seungcheol assents before he pulls away from the embrace so he can look into Jeonghan's eyes. Jeonghan, ever the flighty one, looks to the side, a brilliant, crimson flush high on his cheeks. Seungcheol has to say "Look at me, Jeonghan-ah" before the other male slowly looks up, hesitantly locking his eyes with Seungcheol's.

 

"Yoon Jeonghan. I promise that I will take care of you for as long as I can, that we will be couple goals - well, I can't really give you a solid promise on that but I'll do my best. So, will you be my boyfriend?"

 

Jeonghan throws his arms around Seungcheol again, and he chokes a relieved reply.

 

"Yes. Thank god, yes."

 

 

 

Seungcheol lives in a small apartment in Seoul, South Korea with his roommate, Lee Jihoon. Jihoon produces lit music, sometimes plays Overwatch with their mutual friend Minhyuk, and always complains about Jeonghan not paying rent ("Seungcheol, your boyfriend has been sleeping here six nights a week. I think it's time he paid some fucking rent.").

 

(Seungcheol argues that it would be pretty unfair for Jeonghan and him to pay two-thirds of the rent since they literally share a bedroom and sleep together squished (happily entangled, but Jihoon doesn't need to know that) on a single bed.)

 

(Jihoon eventually concedes.)

 

Jeonghan comes to Seungcheol not only for a good romp in bed, when he needs a favour, but also when he needs a kiss and a hug, two arms to wrap around him and a gentle voice to tell him he's not alone. Seungcheol is always too happy to oblige, agree to anything Jeonghan wants.

 

Jeonghan is still flightly, flippant about most things. He still buys train ticket on a whim, selecting whatever destination that happens to take his fancy that day. But now he tells Seungcheol before his impromptu train rides away. Sometimes they leave for a while, escape together for just a moment. But mostly he goes alone, but always tells Seungcheol when he's going to be back in his arms again. And Seungcheol's fine with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come cry to me about jeongcheol on twitter: https://twitter.com/hanniebeon

**Author's Note:**

> lmao they're not even boyfriends
> 
> also sorry for the low quality i'll probably improve on this sometime in the future


End file.
